


Another Chance

by SigmaCreations



Series: Rescuing Love [2]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigmaCreations/pseuds/SigmaCreations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's back at work and Ruth and Nico are now living with him. I originally intended this to be a multi-chapter fic, but it's turned out to be a one-shot. M-rated sequel to Hope Springs as promised. All characters are borrowed from Kudos. Thanks for reading and please review if you have a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to Hope Springs. Many thanks to my betas TheGrrlGeek and NatesDate for their help, and to the rest of you for reading. Cheers, S.C.

_September 2013, London_

 

“Come on, Nico,” Ruth calls for the umpteenth time. “We're going to miss our train!”

“Coming,” Nico's voice drifts down the stairs as Ruth shakes her head and returns to the kitchen, taking a quick swig of her tea.

“Do you want me to hurry him up?” Harry asks from his seat at the table as he looks up from the newspaper he's skimming through.

“Perhaps,” she sighs. “Let's give him another minute.”

“Are you sure you don't want to take the car?” he murmurs.

“No,” she shakes her head. “He needs to learn how to take the train. We might not be available to pick him up from school, and he needs to be able to get home on his own.”

“I can take the train, no problem, Ruth,” Nico smiles as he enters the kitchen. “You go to the train station, buy your ticket, if you haven't got one already, look at the board, find the right platform, go there, get on the train, find your seat. See? Nothing to it.” Ruth smiles fondly at him. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she replies, shaking her head. “The way you just said that. You looked just like your father.”

“Said what?” he asks. “Nothing to it?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Now let's get going. Harry? Are you ready?”

“Mmmm,” he agrees as he swallows the last of his tea, pushing thoughts of George aside swiftly. “Ready. Let's go.” Even though he knows that Ruth has always loved him and that her feelings for George had never been as strong as her feelings for him, he still feels a twinge every time she mentions him. He knows that she does it for Nico, to reassure him that his father hasn't been forgotten, and he knows how important that is for the boy. Never the less, he prefers not to be present when these references are made.

“See? There's nothing to it,” Nico repeats, making Ruth laugh as Harry stands and folds the paper before rinsing his and Ruth's mugs at the sink.

“Come on,” she smiles and pushes against Nico's lower back, firmly steering him towards the door. “I'm glad you want to be like your father. He was a good, kind man, but now is not the time to practice your impersonation skills.”

They pause in the hall, and Nico and Ruth slip on their coats before grabbing two pieces of luggage each while Harry grumbles, “Come on. We haven't got all day.” Then they step outside and walk to Harry's car, loading it with the luggage while Harry grabs the last two bags and closes and locks the door.

“Wait!” Nico exclaims. “I forgot my phone.”

“Oh, for the love of God!” Harry exclaims in frustration. “You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your body, Son.”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry,” he replies, looking apologetic as he darts back into the house and dashes upstairs.

When he's not back down half a minute later, Ruth calls after him, “Come _on_ , Nico! Harry's going to be late for his meeting.”

“Harry's already late for his meeting,” Harry grumbles just behind her, glancing at his watch.

“I'm sorry,” she smiles, turning towards him and kissing his cheek.

“You have terrible aim, Ruth,” he murmurs as she pulls back. “You completely missed my lips.”

She laughs and steps close again, raising her hands to cup his face and pressing her lips against his this time as he wraps his arms round her waist, pulling her closer.

“Come on, you two,” Nico's amused, smug voice interrupts a few seconds later. “We're going to be late.”

“Very funny, Nico,” Harry grumbles as he pulls back and turns to lock the door again while Ruth and Nico get in the car. Then he throws the last two bags into the boot, closes it and gets in, sitting in the driver's seat and starting the engine.

“Oh, wait!” Nico exclaims again.

“No! Absolutely not!” Harry growls dangerously this time as he glares at his adopted son in the mirror. “Whatever it is, we'll post it to you. We're leaving right _now_. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Harry,” Nico smiles and Harry can tell from the mischievous glint in his eyes that he's pulling his leg; he hasn't really forgotten anything. He sighs and turns his attention to the road, pulling out into the street and driving towards Euston station. He takes it as a good sign that Nico's now comfortable enough around him to be teasing him even though his ego's feeling a little bruised, especially since it turns out that Ruth's a remarkably playful person who doesn't miss an opportunity to tease either. As much as he loves having her in his life, in his home, and especially, in his bed, it's been a bit of a shock to his system, going from a home life of almost complete solitude and peace, to one of almost constant activity, conversation, and noise. Lately he's taken to staying in at work a little longer than usual in order to get some peace and quiet and some time to himself. He's set up his new office with a good sound system, and of course, he keeps it well stocked with his favourite whisky, so it's actually an almost perfect way to unwind at the end of the day before heading home to be with his family.

He's become very fond of Nico since he'd arrived with Ruth from Cyprus almost two months ago. When all the arrangements had been made and he'd got Ruth's passport and job back by calling in a favour with the Home Secretary, he'd decided that he owes it to both of them, and most of all, to George, to try to be a good father to Nico. It's the least he can do for the man whose death still hangs heavily on his conscience, not so much because he believes that he's to blame, but because he fears that, at some level, he'd desired his demise so that Ruth would be free to love him again. So he's endeavoured to give the boy what he needs in terms of attention, like taking him to see an Ashes test match, or teaching him the rules of cricket and rugby, something he'd been horrified to find out that he knew nothing about, and of course, helping Ruth out with disciplining the lad though he rarely needs it. Other than his tendency to be disorganised and late for everything, there really isn't much else to cause conflict. Harry isn't sure if this is because he's just an easy child, or if it's related to him still learning to adapt to life in a new country, in a new home, and with a new adult to relate to, but time will tell.

They reach the station and unload the car, carrying the luggage to the correct platform after Nico has identified which one it is at Ruth's insistence. The train is already there, so after they've located their carriage, Harry helps them load the suitcases onto it. Then they all get back off the train and say their goodbyes.

“Have a good term, Nico,” Harry smiles and embraces him briefly, patting his back affectionately. “Do your homework, practice regularly, and don't trust anyone.”

“Harry!” Ruth objects immediately.

“What?” he asks. “He's far too trusting for his own good.”

“Yes, but you can't tell him to not trust _anyone_!”

“All right,” he sighs. “You can trust your teachers, Nico... Just... don't let any of them seduce you. Or any of your classmates either for that matter.”

Nico laughs and Ruth can't help the smile that tugs at her lips even as she tries to keep her face serious and frown at him. “God, Harry,” she sighs, “you're insufferable sometimes.”

“I know,” he smiles, glancing at his watch. “Oh, shag!” he exclaims. “I'm late. I have to go,” and ignoring Ruth's protests at the colourful language he's just used, he pulls her in for a quick kiss, effectively silencing her with his lips on hers, claps Nico on the shoulder once more, murmuring, “Good luck,” and he leaves.

“Bye, Harry,” Nico calls after him, and he hears him add, “Come on, Ruth. We don't want to miss the train. I can't wait to get there. I can't believe I'm going to music school. I'm so excited. Where's my violin? Do you have it? Oh, good...”

Harry smiles as he walks away and Nico's voice fades into the background noise of the busy station. He's going to miss him, he realises and it surprises him a little. But, he thinks as a small sly smile creeps across his face, at least now he'll have some peace again at home and Ruth all to himself every night. Now _that_ is something to really look forward to.

 

* * *

 

“How was the Grid today?” he asks as he leans back in his arm chair, his right hand wrapped around the delicate, crystal glass that contains his customary end of the day whisky.

“You know perfectly well how it was,” Ruth's voice drifts in from the kitchen where she's making herself some tea. “I know for a fact that Erin sent you an update just a couple of hours ago, not to mention the two updates you got from me today or the three phone calls.”

“The phone calls don't count,” he objects with a smile as he lets his eyes slide shut. “We didn't talk about work.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I don't know how you always manage to do that to me.”

“What?”

“Distract me and turn almost every conversation we have at work into a personal, and often inappropriate, banter,” she says.

He opens his eyes and gives her a smouldering look as she approaches the sofa and sits down, pretending that she hasn't noticed. “Inappropriate?” he murmurs huskily. “How could a conversation between us ever be called inappropriate, Ruth?”

“Don't pretend to be obtuse, Harry,” she frowns. “You know perfectly well that it's highly inappropriate for the DG to be ringing Section D's Senior Analyst and making very suggestive and often lewd comments over the phone.”

“You'd prefer them in person then?” he grins, “because I miss seeing you at work, Ruth, and I'd be more than happy to arrange some special briefings.”

“Harry,” she exhales in frustration, “you're-”

“Insufferable, I know,” he smiles as she glares at him before turning her attention to the mug of tea in her hand, and he watches her take a few sips of it, her lips creasing as she puckers them up in preparation for blowing on her drink and sipping the hot liquid.

He loves to watch her and he wasn't kidding when he said that he misses seeing her at work. She'd only been back two weeks before he'd been asked to apply for the DG's position, the DG having had to retire suddenly for health reasons. He'd been unable to avoid the interview yet again, and this time, he'd known he'd get the position; the powers that be wanted him in that job, partly because they were looking for a non-partisan candidate this time, and partly to move him out of section D where Erin had done a remarkably good job in replacing him during his leave of absence. To be honest, from a professional standpoint, it had been ideal timing for him to move onto something less hands on, especially now that he has Ruth and Nico in his life.

He actually gets home at a reasonable hour most nights now and he's finding dealing with all the departments in MI-5 interesting and challenging. The only complaints he has really are the increased number of politicians and meetings he has to deal with and the fact that he can't watch Ruth from across the Grid any more. He really shouldn't complain though. He can watch her across his sitting room now instead, or in his kitchen, or his bed, or his shower...

He watches her now as she carefully takes a bite of her toast, her lips dipping momentarily in the thick layer of jam that's spread across its surface, and her tongue darting out to lick them clean as she lowers the toast back onto the plate. The sight immediately brings to mind all the other wonderful things she can do with her tongue, and his trousers suddenly feel rather tight and uncomfortable.

“Do you have any idea how erotic it is to watch you eat that?” he asks huskily.

She turns her head to look at him, raising her eyebrows and asking in surprise, “A slice of toast? You need your head examined, Harry.”

“Do I?” he asks and then murmurs with a sly smile, “Perhaps you'd care to come over here and examine it then, Ruth. It can't wait to come out and play.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry Pearce, but you have a dirty mind!” she exclaims in exasperation, but he can see the smile she's trying to suppress tugging at the corners of her mouth as she turns back to her drink.

“Well, you won't agree to my special debriefing sessions at work,” he murmurs with a slight pout of his lips, “so I have to come up with something else.”

“Harry,” she sighs as she turns to look at him again, “you're not wearing briefs. You always wear trunks.” This time there's no mistaking the small smile on her lips as she says it and turns back to take another bite of her toast.

“How do you know?” he asks as he watches her tongue dart out to lick her lips again, almost making him groan with want. “Perhaps I am today.”

“Because, my love,” she replies with a smug smile, “you don't own any briefs. I do the laundry, remember?”

“Maybe I bought some today to surprise you,” he grins, thoroughly enjoying their banter. “Don't you want to come over here and check?”

The last piece of toast disappears into her mouth and she proceeds to lick and suck on each one of her fingers in turn, and this time, he does groan out loud. She turns to look at him and smiles triumphantly before draining the rest of her tea. Then she gets up and approaches him, stopping right in front of him and placing her hands on his knees. His breathing is rugged now as she lowers herself onto her knees and slides her hands up along his thighs, slowly moving towards his groin. His lips part and he can hear himself panting as her hands reach the bulge in his trousers and her fingertips skim along it, her hands moving up to unfasten his belt. She pulls the buckle free and then moves to unfasten the button and zip, pulling his fly open and gently touching his underwear.

“See?” she murmurs as she lifts her eyes to his face, “No briefs.”

He swallows hard and replies in a gravelly voice, “There's no way to tell from just a small triangle of visible material.”

“Fine,” she concedes with a smile, and placing her hands on his knees, she pushes herself upright. Then she leans over him, twisting a little sideways as her right palm presses against his lower abdomen, sliding slowly down into his trousers over the material of his underwear, brushing against his erection and moving lower, cupping his balls, sliding down further until her fingertips brush against the inside of his bare thigh. His eyes are closed and he's groaning loudly, her hand fondling him again as she slowly moves it back up and out of his trousers.

He misses her touch and feels her fumbling with the zip, so he opens his eyes. “Ruth?” he asks huskily. “What are you doing?”

“You're not wearing briefs, Harry,” she replies innocently, “therefore, there can be no debriefing. So I'm zipping up your trousers for you, unless you'd rather do it yourself?”

He narrows his eyes at her, his lust filled mind suddenly unable to deal with her cheeky teasing, and he has to take deep breaths through his nose to calm down. “God, you're such a naughty, little minx at times, Ruth,” he growls as he bends forward, preparing to stand. She squeals in surprise and a little alarm as he stands swiftly, his hands grab hold of her arms, and he looms over her, the difference in their height very apparent now that she's not wearing heels. He moves his face close to hers, his lips millimetres from her own as he murmurs softly, seductively, “Besides, Ruth, I never said _you_ would be the one doing the debriefing... and I know for a fact that _you_ are wearing briefs today. I saw you pick them out this morning.”

She whimpers softly and her eyes are dark with desire as she attempts to press her lips to his. He doesn't let her, pulling just out of her reach every time she leans forward until she lets out a frustrated sound and demands, “Now, who's being a tease?! Kiss me, Harry. _Now!”_ Her hand slips back into his trousers and closes round his shaft and he gives in, inhaling sharply and pulling her to him, crushing her against his chest, his lips devouring her.

Their hands impatiently begin to pull at each other's clothes, his trousers falling round his ankles, her blouse flying across the room, her bra following it, some of his shirt buttons popping free as she loses patience and tugs at the material. They stumble a little, regaining their balance with difficulty only to stumble again and land on the sofa, sprawled across it with Ruth underneath. “You okay?” he asks breathlessly, scared he's hurt her with his substantial weight.

“Never better,” she replies and tugs downwards on his trunks, demanding, “Take them off.”

He pushes himself off her and quickly removes his underwear, trousers and socks before turning to her. She looks gorgeous, lying along their sofa, her eyes dark pools of desire, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, her hair tousled, her breasts... Oh God, her breasts are so beautiful, he can't resist them, like Sirens calling out his name. His hands find them first and then his mouth, sucking and licking her flesh, making her moan, building her up until her cries of pleasure are too much for him and he has to have her.

“And now for the debriefing,” he growls and pulls her knickers off, sliding his fingers delicately along her folds and dipping them inside her slick passage. “God, you're so perfect, Ruth,” he moans, pulling his fingers out of her and kneeling on the sofa, turning her a little onto her side so that one of her legs is between his. He bends her right knee up towards her chest and pushes into her hard and fast, filling her with his length and making them both groan.

“Harry,” she moans as he pushes into her again, harder and faster. He shifts his right leg, placing his foot on the floor against the leg of the arm chair, gaining better leverage as he simultaneously pushes her leg over his shoulder, splaying her open and giving him better access to fuck her hard and deep. And he does with great relish, thrusting into her over and over again, her moans of pleasure flooding his mind, the sensation of her tight wetness all around him, engulfing him, and then clasping him tightly as she tumbles over, his name spilling from her lips in a deep moan of ecstasy, spurring him on. The sweat pours down his back, the tingling radiates out from his balls, down his thighs, up his spine, he gasps for air and plunges in one last time as he spills deep inside her, a roar of ecstasy escaping his lips, and it's over, the feeling of exhausted bliss so overpowering that he has to sink down, dropping backwards onto the sofa, his eyes sliding shut as he leans sideways against the cushions, his chest heaving from the exertion, his body tingling all over from the electricity they've created.

When he opens his eyes again, he's lying on the sofa, his legs spread out along it, his neck feeling a little stiff from the unnatural position he's been lying in, his body covered with a soft blanket. He looks around for Ruth and finds her sitting in the arm chair beside him, wrapped in her robe and sipping a cup of tea. She smiles and murmurs, “I was a little worried about you there, Harry. You all but passed out.”

He pushes himself into a sitting position, rubbing his face with his hands and wincing slightly at the pain in his neck. “How long did I sleep?” he asks.

“About an hour,” she smiles. “I've just made some tea,” she adds, indicating the mug on the table in front of him.

“Thanks,” he murmurs and picks it up, causing the blanket to fall down, revealing his naked chest and back. He sips his drink and then pulls the blanket around his shoulders again, eliciting a protest from Ruth.

“I was enjoying that,” she says.

“That's good to hear,” he smiles, “but it _does_ seem a little unfair.”

“I'm happy to reciprocate,” she replies, putting down her mug and pulling her arms out of her robe, letting it fall to her waist before picking up her tea and looking at him, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

He chuckles softly and lets go of the blanket, murmuring, “You really are full of surprises, Ruth. I never know what to expect from you.”

“Makes life interesting, doesn't it?” she smiles.

“Oh yes,” he agrees, and as he raises the mug to his lips once more, he adds under his breath, “though sometimes it's bloody exhausting.”

“Are you complaining, Harry?” she asks with raised eyebrows, her sharp ears having caught his words.

“No, no,” he assures her quickly, “far from it. That was the best sex I've ever had.”

“Really?” she smiles, looking pleased.

“Really,” he sighs, leaning back against the sofa and letting his eyes slide shut. “We should send Nico away more often.”

“He'll have to come home frequently then,” she smiles, “if you want to send him away again.”

“He'll be home most weekends, won't he?” he asks.

“Yes,” she replies. “We'll end up having quite a backwards sex life, Harry.”

“Backwards?” he asks, lifting his head again to look at her.

“Most people have sex at the weekend,” she explains, “but since Nico will be here then, I imagine we'll be having most of our sex during the week.”

He smiles and murmurs, “I just hope there aren't too many red flashes to interfere with our love life, Ruth.”

“Yes,” she smiles. “Let's hope that the flashes we experience are of an entirely different nature.”

“Mmmmm,” he hums. “The debriefings too...”

“Indeed,” she agrees as she takes a sip of her tea. “Though it seems a little unfair that you're the only one who can do them.”

He chuckles. “I think I can guess what my birthday present's going to be this year, Ruth,” he winks.

“Oh, I doubt that, Harry,” she smiles. “I doubt that very much. I have something very special in mind. Besides, that's two whole months away, far too long a period to wait for a debriefing.” She puts her cup down and slips her robe back on before getting up and taking a seat beside him.

He turns slightly to face her as he places his own mug on the coffee table and reaches for her, pulling her into his arms. “Thank you,” he murmurs before pressing a soft kiss against her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she smiles, tilting her head back to receive his second kiss on her lips, and they are so soft and yielding below his that he has trouble containing the sigh of heartfelt pleasure that wants to escape him. He pulls her closer still and they get lost in the kiss for some time, fully enjoying the freedom of snogging on the sofa without having to worry about being interrupted. “This is lovely,” she murmurs when they pull apart. Then she lifts herself to sit across his lap and strokes his cheek tenderly as she gazes at him adoringly, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. “Besides,” she murmurs softly, “I reckon you deserve a present just for being such a wonderful man, for trying so hard with Nico and for putting up with us both even though we've turned your life completely upside down and inside out.”

“I wouldn't go that far, Ruth,” he replies. “In fact, I think that perhaps you've turned it the right way up again. It was certainly thoroughly buggered up before you walked back into it. Besides, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love having you here.” Then he gives her a cheeky grin and adds, “and Nico in boarding school.”

She laughs and presses a firm kiss against his lips before pulling back and declaring, “I do love you so very much, Harry Pearce.”

“Well, that's good,” he smiles. “Otherwise, I might have landed myself into quite a bit of trouble with that last remark.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighs. “I know you didn't mean that. Not really... not maliciously. Deep down you're just a big softy and I know how fond of him you've become. And though I know I'll miss him, I have to agree that it's nice to have some time alone with you... Just the two of us.”

“Yes,” he murmurs huskily as he leans in to kiss her again, “Just the two of us... you and I.” And when they eventually break apart several minutes later, it's to gather up their things, lock up the house and make their way upstairs to bed, hand in hand, together.  


End file.
